


Paper Chains

by morphin3



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff and Angst, HG Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 04:55:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13139502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morphin3/pseuds/morphin3
Summary: This is a gift for Samantha for the 2017 Harry/Ginny Secret Santa. Enjoy!





	Paper Chains

**Author's Note:**

> This is a gift for Samantha for the 2017 Harry/Ginny Secret Santa. Enjoy!

_The Weasleys and their guests were sitting in the living room, which Ginny had decorated so lavishly that it was rather like sitting in a paper-chain explosion. Fred, George, Harry, and Ron were the only ones who knew that the angel on top of the tree was actually a garden gnome that had bitten Fred on the ankle as he pulled up carrots for Christmas dinner. {From "Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince"}_  

Ginny plopped down on the sofa next to Harry, and he tried not to blush as she leaned forwards, her shirt riding up a bit in the back. Carefully, Harry looked forward, doing his best to ignore the fact that Ginny’s knee was pressing against his as she teased Fred for limping.

“What’d you do, bruise your feet walking somewhere instead of Apparating?” she mocked, tossing her hair over her shoulder. Some of it brushed Harry’s shoulder, and he had to work to hold back a shiver.

“Ha, ha, Gin,” Fred grumbled. “If you must know, I was injured when I was decorating the tree.”

“Pshaw,” Ginny scoffed, leaning back against the sofa cushion. Her shoulder knocked Harry’s as she folded her arms against her chest. “You lie like a rug, Fred.”

Fred quirked his eyebrow at her, then smirked, making eye contact with Harry. “It’s true. Tell her, Harry.”

Harry found himself confronted with Ginny’s intense gaze, her brown eyes watching him intently. He swallowed.

“It’s true,” he said in a low voice, wishing his voice sounded stronger...until Ginny leaned closer to better hear him. He inhaled quickly - a flowery scent momentarily distracted him - and then he continued.

“See the angel on the tree?” he asked, staring back into her eyes and motioning only with his eyebrows. “It’s actually a garden gnome. It bit Fred earlier, which is why he is limping, and so we, er,” but he didn’t finish. Ginny was shaking with silent laughter, her face growing red even as she grinned, and Harry started chuckling as well. Mainly, he just wanted to watch her laugh, because it was such a pleasure, but he knew it would be odd if he didn’t laugh, too.

Ginny turned to Fred incredulously. “Really?” she asked, still overcome with laughter. “He bit you, so you froze him?”

Fred looked proud. “Of course,” he said. “I had to find something to match the rest of the decor.” He motioned to the paper chains affixed to every surface.

“Oi!” Ginny cried. “I made those!” She scowled at Fred, who was taking his turn to laugh. He stood up quickly, wincing as he put weight on his ankle, and backed away, hands up defensively.

“Now, now, Gin, they’re lovely, really,” Fred said soothingly as he edged around his chair. “I just thought the gnome wanted in on all the festivities. It is Christmas, after a-”

He got no further in his explanation; Ginny had shot a Stinging Hex at him, and Fred ducked, but it still struck his shoulder. He yelped and escaped to the kitchen.

Ginny turned to Harry. “And what do you think of my paper chains?” she demanded, still brandishing her wand.

“I think they’re brilliant,” said Harry honestly. “Very festive.” And it was true; he did think they were festive. Aunt Petunia had never decorated the house with anything homemade, and Harry thought Ginny’s paper chains were the epitome of a warm family Christmas.

“Really?” Ginny’s gaze softened and she lowered her wand. She was still sitting quite close to Harry, and she turned towards him more fully, her hair falling over her shoulder to rest by her cheek. She was so lovely that for a moment, Harry couldn’t breathe. He blinked and gathered his thoughts.

“Really,” he told her, “it’s very homey and Christmas-y. And much nicer than the gnome,” he added.

Ginny looked thoughtful. “I can think of a nice use for the gnome,” she said. “Want to help me get him to the twins’ room tonight?” She looked at him and grinned, and Harry grinned back.

“Absolutely.”

* * *

Harry sat outside the tent, his broken wand in the pouch around his neck. He was tired, so tired, and he was angry. At Hermione, even though she had not meant to break his wand and had in fact saved his life. At Dumbledore, who had kept so many secrets. At Ron, who had left them.

Harry shifted his legs. Thinking of Ron made him think of the rest of the Weasleys, and the Weasleys meant Ginny. He sighed. Ginny. It was Christmas, so she was probably at the Burrow, safe and warm. He wondered if she had made paper chains this year, as she had done last Christmas, and suddenly Harry felt a longing so strong inside him that he almost choked.

Ginny.

Merlin, he missed her.

He thought of the last time he had seen her, dancing with Charlie at Bill and Fleur’s wedding, happy and beautiful in her bridesmaid dress. He thought of his birthday and the passionate kiss she had given him. He thought of her red-rimmed eyes at Dumbledore’s funeral as he told her they couldn’t be together any longer, and he thought of the weeks before that, when they had spent long afternoons in the shade of a copse of trees near the great lake, the giant squid swimming lazily by.

Feeling restless, Harry jumped to his feet and wandered around the tent, his eyes on the ground. What a way to spend Christmas.

A light streak on a tree trunk caught his eye, and Harry moved closer, curious. The bark had been pulled off the trunk of the tree. Harry remembered learning that deer sometimes ate tree bark if they were very desperate. The deer must have not been very desperate, Harry thought, or else this tree tasted very bad, for there were only a few strips missing from the bark.

Harry’s fingers scraped at the bark, pulling a bit off himself. He toyed with the bark, then made a little circle. He peeled another piece of bark and looped it through the first, securing both circles between his forefinger and thumb. This was the closest thing to a paper chain he was going to have this year.

“Happy Christmas,” he whispered to himself, and he let go of the bark and watched them land on the dirt at his feet.

* * *

Celestina Warbeck was warbling from the radio as Harry and Ron burst into the kitchen of the Burrow, breathless from their snowball fight. They had started out with a fly and then a run around the pasture, since their trainer had promised she would not go easy on the new Aurors after Christmas, but their run had only lasted a couple of laps before devolving into an all-out war. Well, not an actual war, Harry soberly reminded himself as he stamped the snow off his boots and saw George at the kitchen table.

George seemed to be in a good mood, though. He was sitting across from Ginny, who looked up as Harry and Ron entered.

“Good morning,” she greeted them. “Did you boys have a good work-out?” She raised a brow skeptically at their snow-covered coats and disheveled appearances. Ron raised a few fingers in her direction, and she stuck her tongue out at him.

Harry grinned. Despite their squabbles, he knew Ron and Ginny were quite close, especially after this summer. He crossed the kitchen and sat down next to Ginny, sneaking his cold hands along her neck. She shrieked, raising her shoulders to her ears in defense and smacking him.

“Morning, Gin,” he laughed, removing his hands from her neck and catching her hand after it struck his bicep. “Sorry, couldn’t resist.”

She glared at him, even as her lips twitched. “Hmmph. Make yourself useful, why don’t you,” motioning to the paper and glitter in front of her.

“What are we making?” he asked, reaching for some green paper.

“Paper chains,” Ginny answered, watching him. He turned and looked at her. She smiled. “It’s tradition, you know.”

They made paper chains until they ran out of paper, and then they hung them at every entryway and every light, attached them at every room’s corner, and draped them from the windows like extra sets of curtains. When every chain was finally hung, they collapsed onto the sofa together, admiring their work.

“This was something I missed most last year, you know,” Harry said quietly, leaning his shoulder against hers and reaching to interlace their fingers.

Ginny squeezed his hand. “Yeah?”

Harry nodded, sighed. “It’s good to be home.”

Ginny leaned her head against him. “Happy Christmas, Harry.”

“Happy Christmas, Gin.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head.


End file.
